Clichés to the Extreme
by Sugar Junky Freakazoid
Summary: HP fanfiction clichés taken to extreme measures.
1. Whoops

**I have said in the past that I was giving up fanfiction. However, I was bored and this is a one shot, so I don't see a problem.**

**Also note that this is a parody of the time travel cliché, and I hope it's different from the other time travel fics out there.**

_Whoops_

Harry Potter ran along the road, trying to escape from the Death Eaters, but it was no use. There was far too many of them, and they were too fast.

Slowly Harry reached down his shirt and pulled out the time turned he was carrying for no apparent reason. He stared at it as he ran, and, whilst not looking where he was running, started to turn it back – one – two – three – hours, then... he tripped.

SMASH.

Gasping, Harry caught site of the broken time turner on the ground next to him, and looked up just in time to see a swarm of death eaters gathering around him, wands aimed to kill, before then all vanished and Harry felt woozy.

As soon as Harry recovered he looked up, and stared around. This wasn't the streets of Surrey, this place was covered in grass and trees and vegetation and... Palm trees? Harry blinked, and then turned around. And came face to face with a tyrannosaurus rex.

Only one thought came into Harry's mind as he turned and ran from this horrific beast: '_next time I cast an unbreakable charm on that damn time turner!'_


	2. I am Your Father

**:sighs unhappily: I really do need to stop writing fanfiction. Oh well, the idea of completely parodying fanfiction clichés in too tempting. If there's anyone reading this can someone suggest a cliché for me to do.**

_I am Your Father_

Harry smiled. The final battle against Voldemort was almost won. All that was left to do was to kill Voldemort, and then it would be over! At long last! And he currently had Voldemort at wand point, staring up at him in disbelief, shocked over the fact he, a wizard in his seventies, had been bested by a teenager.

"Any last words?" Harry asked, feeling particularly generous. Voldemort stared at from Harry's wand to Harry himself, and back again, before opening his mouth.

"Yes Harry," Voldemort said, pausing dramatically. "I am your father."

Silence reigned over the battlefield, and several people blinked in shock before outrage raged across the field.

"That is not true!" shouted Severus Snape. "I'm Potter's father!"

"No you're not!" Lucius Malfoy yelled. "I am!"

"No, it's me!" bellowed Draco Malfoy.

"You're all wrong! I AM HARRY POTTER'S FATHER!" screamed Mad-Eye Moody.

And so began one of the biggest debates the wizarding world had ever seen, with Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape, Lucius and Draco Malfoy, Mad-Eye Moody, Mundungus Fletcher, Sturgis Podmore, Cornelius Fudge and Bellatrix Lestrange all claiming to be Harry's father.

Harry sighed. He'd been afraid something like this would happen. And so he decided it was time to fall on his original plan from when he had been ten years old and had abandoned when he read his Hogwarts letter: time to find a nice circus to join. He was positive he could pass off his magic as something a freak show would be interested in.


	3. Letters from Lily

**Happy Easter everyone! Here's another cliché that just popped into my head. Along with a couple of others I'll probably write later.**

_**Letter from Lily**_

It was the middle of the night at Privet Drive, and nothing was stirring, not even a mouse, when from Harry's window there was a loud bang. Harry shot up out of bed, and grabbed his wand, only to see it was an owl, carrying a letter for him.

Slowly Harry reached out the window and grabbed it, taking a hold of the letter and letting the owl go. The owl did not stick around. The moment he let it go it flew off into the sunrise, albeit a little lopsidedly. Presumably it did not want a reply. Harry opening the letter and looked at it's contents.

_Dearest Harry,_

_This is your mother, and if you are reading this then I am dead, and you aren't and have managed to defy the laws of time and send you a letter on your sixteenth birthday._

Harry blinked at that part. It was going to be his seventeenth birthday in a week.

_There is so much I need to tell you, but cannot possibly do so in a letter. So please, take this dagger, and cut your wrists with it. When it comes into contact with your blood at those points on your body it will turn into a portkey and transport you to the afterlife, where I am._

_I love you._

_Your Mother,_

_Lily._

Harry looked at the dagger that was taped to the parchment. It looked very sharp. After a moment Harry threw the parchment and dagger on the bin. No way was he going to kill himself just so his mother could tell him things, like what his favourite food was when he was a baby.


	4. Evil Super Genius

**It's been a couple of months now since I last wrote a parody, but it seems a lot less than that. I blame my GCSEs, but no matter, on with the parody. This specific one I'd been planning to write for months, yet it's somehow come out different to how it should have. I think I like it more this way.**

**Oh yeah, one more thing before I actually begin. I'd like to thanks Perfect-Princess for giving me enough ideas for four more chapters after this, as well as inspiring me to think of some other ideas as well.**

_**Evil Super Genius**_

"... And then I shot off a stunner and managed to port key away, sir."

Harry Potter sat in Albus Dumbledore's room at Hogwarts, explaining away what had happened on his latest duel with Voldemort. The old man nodded kindly to his student.

"Very well Harry, you might want to get to class."

"Yes sir."

Harry stood to leave, and Dumbledore turned to his phoenix, Fawkes.

"Ah, Fawkes, my plan is almost complete! Soon Potter will kill Tom, my dust bunny plague will kill him and I shall reign supreme as ruler as the wizarding world!" Dumbledore looked at Fawkes for a moment. "What do you mean I must be insane! I have all my sanity! No I do not have a lemon drop fetish! How dare you accuse me of such a thing! Now get back to training the dust bunnies! Soon they must -"

"Um, professor?" Dumbledore froze in shock. "I'm still here."

"Ah, yes, well my boy, you wouldn't want to be late for History of Magic, would you?"

"No professor," Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't quite understand why his great uncle insisted that he was the headmaster of a magical school which shared the same name as the mental hospital he had been placed in many years ago, but it had been decided that it was best to play along. After all, the old man was nearing his last days.


End file.
